


The Long Weekend

by SnowHeart



Series: The Washington Administration [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But mostly fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Politics, Seriously who let these idiots run a country?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8208085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowHeart/pseuds/SnowHeart
Summary: Mr President, we wouldn't miss it for the world. We’d we honoured to attend the opening of the George Washington Presidential Library. Or the one where the Washington administration reunite, Angelica is so glad it isn't her job to explain to the press what just happened.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back...
> 
> This won't be any where near as long as Those Who Rise Up, but enjoy! If you haven't read the first fic in the series, this does work as a stand alone but I'd recommend just giving it a quick look.

There was a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this, honestly. It actually made a lot of sense and could have happened to any normal, sane group of people (never mind these things always seemed to happen to them.) Angelica was just glad it wasn't her job any more to explain to the press why Alex and Aaron were locked in a cupboard, Herc had a black eye, Theo had broken John’s fingers and Jefferson had fainted. Because when you said it like that, yeah, okay, it sounded bad. But apparently these things were inevitable whenever they all got together.

 

**Two weeks earlier**

 

Just over four-hundred letters left Mount Vernon in light blue envelopes, each one addressed individually in a an elegant curling hand. Martha had rolled her eyes at that, but her husband had insisted on writing each one himself.

“Why? It’s not like they’re not going to come.”

“It’s more personal this way.”

“Have it your way. Just don’t come running to me when you get hand cramps, my love.”

Six hours, four pens and an ink stain on his forehead that no-one thought to tell him about later, 

George walked the had mile down into town to post them. He could have driven, of course, but there was a funny freedom about being able to just go out for a walk that he still wasn't used to, even eighteen months after moving back to Virginia. He smiled as he dropped the envelopes in the letterbox one by one. It was the most mundane, everyday action imaginable but for one moment he felt like the President again.

-

Of the two hundred or so envelopes that ended up in DC, two found their way to Capitol Hill. James Madison grinned as he turned his over in his hands. He knew exactly what it was, and was equal parts flattered and relieved to have received one. He was in the process of re-reading the contents for the third time when his best friend appeared at his door, brandishing an envelope of his own.

“You too?” Thomas asked, and James held his up in response.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Thomas grinned. “Pack your bags, Jimmy. We’re going home.”

-

Across the city, and three blue envelopes were sitting in the White House mail cart. One was for President Adams, a courtesy that was expected, even if no-one really wanted him, but another was  dressed to Elizabeth Schuyler. She was talking media projection with Aaron when the post cart did the rounds to her office.

“Got a lot for you today, Eliza.” the mailman commented, handing over a thick wad of envelopes which could only mean more work for her.

“Thanks, Hank.” she smiled taking the pile. A small blue envelope fell out and she picked it up, inspecting the address with a frown, sure the handwriting was familiar. “What’s this?”

Hank shrugged. “No idea. Oh, Burr, you got one too.”

Aaron took his own envelope with equal confusion. Eliza tore hers open, read the first line, and felt a grin spread across her face. 

“What is it?” Aaron asked, and she handed him the letter. He ripped it open and examined the printed card.

“Oh God,” he muttered. “I’d better tell Theo.”

“Aaron, I think this is going to be a good weekend.”

-

“Dude, there’s something from America here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, look at the postmark.”

Sure enough, the faded ink showed it hadn't come from Paris, or anywhere else in France for that matter. Herc handed over the blue envelope (one of two that had traveled across the Atlantic), along with the rest of the mail. These days, he automatically gave anything that came through their door to Laf for three reasons: Herc still couldn't speak more than the most remedial of French, he never got any letters because anyone who wanted to talk to him in Paris would just text him, and there was no way he, an art student, could contribute much to the bills at the moment. Sure, student debt didn't accumulate as fast when were studying in Paris, but there was no escaping the fact he had little to no income right now. A part of him hated it, being dependant of Lafayette, but the Frenchman was never condescending or superior about it, and seemed to like being able to spend some of his stupid fortune (seriously, where did Laf get so much money from?) on Herc.

“Is it from DC?”

“No, that’s the Virginia mark.”

They opened it together, Herc perched on the arm of Laf’s chair with a mug of tea, and then shared identical smiles as they read it.

“I’m gonna look at plane tickets.”

“I’ll start packing.”

-

“Alex, there’s someone at the door.”

“So?”

“So we should really answer it.”

Alex groaned and buried his head back under the sheets, and John was more than a little tempted to join him. He didn't have anything schedules all morning which was a rarity, and he’d been looking forward to not having to leave his bed for hours. The knocking sound rang through the flat again, and after another glance in Alex’s direction made it clear he wasn't moving, John got out of bed, wincing as his feet touched the cold ground. He stumbled over to the door.

“Hey Clara,” he smiled, recognising the girl who lived two doors down from them.

She looked him up and down with a smirk, and he realised he was wearing nothing but the boxers he’d been sleeping in and an old dressing gown. “Hi. You guys not up yet?” she asked in her thick Manhattan accent.   
“Making the most of the day off. Alex isn't even out of bed yet.” Never mind John had only gotten up about ten seconds ago himself.

“I won’t intrude then, I’m just here to drop this off.” She held out a blue envelope. “They’re delivering your mail to my place again.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, promised to drop in later and closed the door, turning the letter over in his hands. He recognised the looped writing in an instant. 

“Hey Alex!”

“Ugh, what?”

“I think you’re gonna want to wake up for this.”

-

The other envelope to cross the Atlantic nearly didn't reach it’s destination. Not because of the thousands of miles it travelled, or some international mix up, or even the inefficient of the London post system. But because the unfortunate postman almost ended up in hospital by way of falling down a flight of stairs.

“My God, I’m so sorry!” Angelica said, grabbing the man she’d just collided with on the way out of her flat before he could fall backwards. 

“Don’t worry about it? You Miss Church? Got your post here.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the small stack of envelopes and shoving them in her bag as she raced past him down the stairs. Her heels clicked as she raced down Paddington Street and narrowly avoided getting run over by a red bus. Thanks to the batteries dying in her alarm clock and a washing machine that seemed to only produce odd socks she was running late, so it wasn't until she was on the tube that she got around to looking at her mail. The train rattled as she flicked through the usual bills and flyers, and almost missed the small blue envelope. Frowning, she opened it, already working through the presentation she had to give later today in her head, but after reading the first line work was suddenly the last thing on her mind. After months of solid work, this could be just what she needed.

Angelica pulled out her phone as soon as she was back to street level and would have signal, and dialled the number of her office at Canary Wharf. “Hey, Ianto. How much holiday leave do I have left? Yeah? Okay, tell Jack I’m going to need to take it all.”

-

They all respond within the day, and the steady trickles of replies making their way back to Virginia soon became a flood. George Washington ticked every one off on his list himself.

“Don’t you have someone who’s supposed to be organising this for you?”

“I want to do it, Martha. Let me have this.”

She planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Whatever you want, old man.”

“Who are you calling old?”

“The one of us who’s retired.”

She left him to his work, and some time later he picked up the next RSVP on the stack and smiled.

-

_Mr President, we wouldn't miss it for the world. We’d we honoured to attend the opening of the George Washington Presidential Library. Yours, John and Alexander._

 

 

“Did you know Jefferson’s gonna be there?” Alex demanded, bursting into John’s study, mobile phone in his hand. Well, it wasn't so much of a study as a spare bedroom, still half filled with boxes they hadn't gotten around to unpacking that he had squeezed a desk and some shelves into. Alex had no such need for an office. Some of the most influential men in the country got emails form the kitchen table, the couch, their bed… wherever he found himself sprawled with a laptop on his knee really. John just shot him a long suffering look and saved whatever it was he’d been working on, clearly sensing this wasn't going to be a quick discussion.

“What?”

“At the Library opening Madison just made a statement saying that the two of them were going to be in Virginia this weekend.”

“And you’re surprised? Jefferson’s the House Speaker, Madison’s got half the senate under his belt, they basically control congress between them. It would be weird if Washington hasn’t invited them.”

“I guess… but Jefferson!” Alex complained. “I don’t want to have to deal with him! I’m already going to have to cope with Burr being there”

John had clearly given up arguing with him about Burr. “Alexander, you are a grown man. I’m sure you can go one weekend without punching a congressman.”

“I wouldn't count on it. Did you see the statement he made on-“

“Yes I did. You shoved it under my nose when I was trying to make spaghetti last week, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” Alex bit his lip for a moment. He’d ranted at John for nearly an hour that night. _Oops_. “But that just proves my point!”

“So don’t talk to him.” John stood up. “You want to give Washington the best weekend possible?”

“Of course.”

John kissed him, a brief peck on the lips. “Then man up and deal with it. We can all just ignore him then go get drunk as soon as it’s over. You really want to miss out on seeing Laf and Herc and Angelica because you got into a pissing contest with Jefferson?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Now go away. I’ve got to get this speech finished by tonight.”

“You must be the only guy out there who writes his own campaign speeches.”

“Find me a better writer and they can have the job.”

“I could help.” Alex offered.

“I’m trying to get elected to the senate. That means I’ve got to make people like me, not piss them off.”

He knew it was true, but even so Alex opened his mouth to protest. John didn't give him the chance. “Let me finish this, and then when I’m done…” his voice seemed to drop and octave, and Alex knew that expression far too well. “When I’m done, you’re more than welcome to help me.”

Unsurprisingly, Alex decided to get out and let John finish his work.

 

\--

 

“Come on, we’re gonna be late. The flight leaves in an hour and a half.”

“We’re not going to be late, Herc. Relax.”

“I’ll relax when you find your passport and we get out the door.”

“I know exactly where my passport is.”

“Yeah, where?”

“It’s right h… Okay don’t be pissed. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”

Herc rolled his eyes. He’d been expecting this, of course. A few false starts had proven that they were incapable of getting anywhere on time, which was why he’d told Laf that their plane left an hour before it did. Even so, they’d be cutting it fine. 

Eventually, they managed to get themselves out of the flat into a taxi to the airport. Herc gave the directions while Laf struggled with their cases, and he didn't miss the small look of pride he shot his way as they climbed in. Herc had never bothered to learn French when they lived in DC, never mind the fact it was his boyfriend’s first language. There had just never been time to pick up more than a few basic phrases in the chaos that was life in the White House, and Laf spoke such fluent English that it hadn't mattered. But when they moved to Paris, well, Herc had never been one to back down from a challenge, and he’d been determined to master French as quickly as possible. 

Well, maybe master was a bit generous. Even after eighteen months he still found himself tripping up on the odd word or frantically trying to translate in his head when someone talked too quickly, but he was pretty damn good these days. And if Lafayette had quickly developed a _thing_ for his attempt at a French accent? Well, Herc would be lying if he said he didn't exploit that too.

The Paris traffic? Gridlock. Check-in? A nightmare. Their gate? The furthest one possible away from security, right on the other side of the airport. They barely made it on time, sprinting through the terminal and past startled tourists and barreling through the final passport control just as the last call sounded on the tannoy. It was cutting it fine to say the least, so Herc didn't notice that Laf was somewhat distant until they were safely in their seats and somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.

“Hey,” he said, placing a calming hand on his jiggling knee. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Because you’re doing an amazing impression of Alex hyped up on coffee right now. You haven't stopped fidgeting since we took off.”

“I’m just excited to see everyone, that’s all.”

“Try again.” Herc instructed, because he knew this man far too well not to notice when he was being bullshitted to. 

Laf sighed, and looked out the window at the ocean far below. “We should have told them, they’re going to kill us. You know that right? I just don’t want them to think we didn't care to tell them, or…”

“Hey, stop worrying. They’re our friends, they’ll understand.” He frowned. “Although now I think about it, maybe we should get Angelica drunk before we tell her. That girl’s got a mean slap.”

Laf chuckled, quiet but genuine. “I think you might be onto something there.”

“You’re an idiot, De Motier. Now, do you think I should watch the new Disney one or the Mary Poppins reboot first? Because I’ve hear they’re both good, but…”

The two descended into an discussion about both films, arguing good naturally about the merits of animation or live action. And when they did eventually decide on something to watch (an old James Bond they’d both seen a million times) Herc glanced down at their hands linked over the uncomfortable arm rest. _Laf’s probably right,_ he though as he looked at the matching rings. _They’re going to kill us._


	2. Chapter 2

“How do you lose your shoes?” Herc asked in exasperation, although Laf could hear that he wasn't really pissed. They seemed to go through this every time they tried to go everywhere, and his his husband was more than used to it now. 

His husband. Laf was still getting used to being able to say that, to being able to look at the glint of gold on Herc’s finger and think _mine_. It had been quick, God knows it had been probably been too quick, but he had never for a moment regretted it. 

Now though… well, he’d be kissing his limbs goodbye once everyone found out they had kept _getting married_ a secret.

“Hey Herc, do you think you could do something for me?”

“You’re not borrowing my trainers. We are going to look smart, dammit.”

“But it’s not even the official opening until tomorrow! It’s just drinks and a tour round!” Laf argued automatically, before shaking his head. “No, that’s not what I’m asking.”

“What’s up?”

He crossed the hotel room and sat down on the bed next to Herc. “You know I love you right? And you know I promised I’d never take this off again?” He fiddled with the ring around his finger, and Herc frowned for a moment before his face fell in understanding. 

“You want to keep this a secret?”

“Of course not! But it’s George’s weekend, and I don’t want to overshadow his last chance to be President with a double homicide at the hands of his old staff.”

Herc chucked, despite himself. “Yeah that would be bad. So Sunday night, then? We’ll all go out for dinner after the speeches and we’ll tell them then?”

Laf considered. It was Saturday morning now, with the official opening tomorrow lunchtime and a chance to look around the library today. They could go two days pretending they were just a couple, and not a married one. No problem. He hated asking it of Herc, but he’d been working out how he wanted to tell his friends for weeks, and didn't want to wreck it by someone freaking out the moment they saw they rings.

“Sunday night.” He agreed. They could manage that, surely.

 

\--

 

“Angelica?”

Angelica’s head picked up at the voice and she turned around. She’d arrived at the converted farm house which would be home to the Washington Library and was doing her best not to look aimless. No point showing the world she had no clue where she was meant to be going. She recognised the voice instantly though, and turned around with a delighted gasp.

“Eliza!”

She raced across the room, too excited for embarrassment and launched herself at Eliza. She hadn't seen her best friend in over a year if you didn't count Skype calls, and she’d missed her more than she’d ever expected to.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Eliza said. “This is so exciting! I’m not gonna let you go back to England, you know.”

“Ugh, don’t even talk about that, I’ve got a whole week stateside and I’m going to enjoy it.”

“I think we can help with that. Everyone’s dying to see you.”

 “How are they doing? I hope you’re looking after my press room.”

“The new guy doesn't even compare to you,” Someone said, and Angelica looked up to see Aaron walking towards them. And on his arm…

“Oh my God, Theo!” she exclaimed hugging her awkwardly around her stomach. Her very very _pregnant_ stomach. “Holy Crap! How long…? Do you know…? When-“ She trailed off, for once completely lost for words.

Theo smiled. “Any day now. And we’re pretty sure it’s a girl.”

“That’s amazing!” Then Angelica smacked Aaron on the arm. 

“Ow.” He complained. “So she get’s a hug and I get beaten up?”

“How could you not tell me about this?”

He shrugged. “And miss that look on your face? Come on, how many chances am I gonna get to catch you off guard? I didn't manage once in the eight years we were working together.”

She tried to glare at him, and failed miserably thanks to the grin spreading across her face. “That’s amazing you guys. That’s really, really… wow. I’m gonna be an aunt!”

“Come on,” Eliza said. “I think everyone’s inside.”

“So how’s the Adams Administration going?” she asked as the four of them walked through the doors. Aaron and Eliza had been the only senior staff to stay at the White House through the change of leadership, something you couldn't have paid Angelica enough to do.

“Good. I mean, it’s not the same, but it’s still the White House.”

“And Alexander is still managing to be a thorn in my side.” Aaron added without any real malice. “So that hasn't changed at least.”

“Yeah,” Angelica frowned. “Isn't he doing political commentary or something now?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call publicly bashing my boss on a weekly basis.” 

“Be nice.” Theo scolded. “Your boss could do with a bit of bashing every now and again. Now are you gonna find me a seat and some of those miniature hotdogs going round.”

Aaron lead her away to sit down and Eliza whispered “I think Alex is holding back for our sakes. You know how much he hates Adams - if he was going for the jugular we’d be doomed already.”

“Does Aaron know that?”

“I’m not sure what he hates more: Alex making his job ten times harder, or the idea that Alex could be making his job a hundred times harder and he’s going easy on us.”

“I don’t suppose they’ve tried talking to each other?”

Eliza laughed. “No. We’re back to the passive aggressive tweeting stage.”

Angelica just rolled her eyes. “I swear to God, I’m away for ten minutes…”

 

\--

 

“Thomas, would you behave?” James grumbled. They were at a Presidential library opening for the love of God, and all his friend could do was raise his blood pressure. Sure, he felt a bit like the Republican fox in a Democratic hen-house anyway, but that was the nature of give and take in Washington. Being ever so slightly paranoid that Thomas was about to start a fistfight was more of a problem.

Well maybe not a fistfight. Thomas would hate to ruin that new suit.

“I am behaving!” his friend complained.

“You’re purposely antagonising people just for the sake of it.”

He shrugged, and shoved a cocktail sausage into his mouth. “Maybe. But what’s life without a little entertainment?”

It was at times like this that James had to remind himself just why he bothered with Thomas. People always looked a little confused by their relationship. _But you’re so calm Madison, so reasonable? Why the hell do you hang out with him? Is the whole thing just a long term political alliance?_

People, as it turned out, were stupid.

Thomas was the best friend he had ever had, and the political was only the smallest part of that relationship. Of course, they had perfected a working partnership over the years, playing off each other’s strengths and perceived weaknesses to slowly extend their influence over the Hill, but that was just a bonus. The things Thomas had done for him… well, they owed each other more than could be explained by simply friendship.

Not that the world needed to know that, of course. Let them carry on thinking they were the platonic version of a power couple, if they wanted to. 

And meanwhile, James would keep reminding himself why he didn't just strangle the idiot with his own bowtie and blame the whole thing on Hamilton.

 

\--

 

“Alexander, my boy, there you are!”

“Mr President, it’s good to see you!”

Washington grimaced as he shook Alex’s hand. “I’d just got used to being called George again.”

“Hate to break it to you, sir, but you’re Mr President for life in my book. And especially today.”

“I suppose I can grin and bear it for one day.”

“You love it really. How’s retirement treating you?”

Washington smiled warmly, and Ales noted how he seemed ten years younger now he was out of office. “Fantastically. I’m actually renovating the farmhouse, can you believe?”

Alex tried to summon up the picture of George Washington in scruffy jeans and a shirt half way up a ladder with a hammer in hand, and failed miserably. “I really can’t. But good for you. At least someone’s getting some peace and quiet.”

“But that’s never been your forte has it?” Washington looked at him knowingly and Alex smiled a little sheepishly. He’d have seen Alex’s rants in the New York Post, of course, and he there was no doubt that he’d see through the pen name _Publis_ in an instant and know who was really writing them. Eight years in office, two more on campaign, and self control was one skill Alex had never quite managed to learn from his boss. But that wasn't what today was about. The two of them were standing in the entrance hall, watching people start to arrive.

“So. Nervous?” Alex smirked.

“Nervous? About what?’

“Your big speech tomorrow.”

“I’ve had the practice.”

“True,” Alex allowed as the ambassador of somewhere or other made his way over to them, then smiled wickedly. “But back then I was writing for you. You’re on your own this time, _George_.”

He darted away before Washington could shoot him one of his looks. He’d missed this.

The first hour or so was just people arriving and mingling in the entrance to the library, which as far as Alex was concerned meant stealing every plate of nibbles that came his way and doing his best to ignore the Virginians on the other side of the room. Of course, there was nothing he wanted more than to go over there and pick a fight with Jefferson over every vote he’d cast in congress this cycle. But he’d promised John not to make a scene, and, more importantly he had an example to set. Because starting a screaming match in the middleof the Presidential Library really wasn't what he wanted Phillip to see.

He’d like to say he’d pulled every string possible to get the kid a ticket here, but in the end it had been easy. A quick email to Washington, a phone-call to Eliza and a couple of texts to Phillip to check he wouldn't forget a toothbrush, and here they were. Alex couldn't help but watch with a little pride as the sixteen year old strolled around the room, chatting to business big-wigs and political heavy-weights like he’d been born to it. Phillip had come so far from the angry teenager he’d pulled out of a police precinct (okay, so he was still an angry teenager for the most part, but when he turned on the charm and the nerdy politics side of his brain you’d never know.) 

Scratch that, pride wasn't the word Alex was looking for right now. Pride didn't even begin to cover it.

“Hello, Alexander,” a voice said behind him, and Alex forced himself to clamp down on the flair of irritation and plaster a smile on his face, the type that couldn't fail to be infuriating.

“Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... this took forever. I'm sorry.  
> Thanks for the patience!  
> x


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a very very late chapter. I'm sorry.
> 
> Many thanks to WhoffleSouffle for beta reading this at light speed, it sure as hell wouldn't be written otherwise!

Up until the moment at which everything went to hell, the afternoon was perfect. John didn't know the first thing about architecture or design, but there was no denying the museum was amazing. To any curious member of the public or politics buff, the systematic reconstruction of the Washington Administration would have been impressive enough, but to him… it was like a tour through eight years’ worth of memories.

Washington himself lead them, grinning like a child every time he showed them a new room. Jefferson and Madison were trying their best not to look impressed (John wasn't completely sure what the two of them were doing walking around on a tour with a group of staffers they hated except trying to look important) but no one else bothered to hide their glee. They examined photographs and objects they’d forgotten used to be important with matching wistful smiles.

“Hey, Alex! Hands off the goods!” Angelica called out playfully, and John turned around to see him quickly withdrawing his fingers from something.

“Jesus, I can’t take you anywhere…” John muttered, but shut up when he recognized the object that Alex had been trying to touch. It wasn't anywhere near as impressive looking as most of the historic memorabilia in here, and it would be worth nothing of real value, but John recognized the legal pad instantly.

“Isn't that…?”

“Yeah.”

“I still can’t believe you guys wrote out a whole State of the Union speech in longhand.” Eliza commented. “You two, the most prone to losing stuff out of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“It was a good speech,” Alex replied distractedly, and John had to agree. It had been the first real test of Washington as a President, and more importantly the first test the two of them had faced as real writers. On campaign, it had been different somehow, with a hundred statements being issued a day in a mad whirlwind. This had been the piece of work that had proved the two of them could really do it. He looked at the words, his careful, crafted handwriting and Alex’s madcap scrawl, and wondered how they had ever been that young.

“It was a great speech, but that still doesn't mean you can touch it.” Washington said, interrupting his reminiscing. “The security in here is all state of the art. We’ve got pressure release systems, motion sensors, thermal imagery-“

“Mr. President, do you have any idea what any of those things you just said mean?”

“No.” he admitted. “But I know they trigger an immediate security lockdown if you touch anything. So, that means hands to yourself, my boy!”

“Good luck with that,” Aaron muttered under his breath as he passed, and John felt Alex bristle besides him. The two had been at each other’s throats all day, trading snide comments and barbed glares, and John could tell it was starting to get on everyone’s nerves. Hell, it was getting on his nerves. The whole thing reminded him of the early days of their first campaign, back when Alex and Burr hadn’t seen eye to eye over anything and were taking any opportunity to undermine the other. He just hoped that one of them got their head out of their arse soon, or Angelica would be murdering someone before the day was out.

To distract him, John looped his arm through Alex’s, lead him away from the display case and asked “Where’s Phillip?”

“In the cafeteria.” he replied. “Eliza made him go get something to eat, and once he realized how many politicians were hanging around there, there was no getting him away. Think he said something about a blog he was writing?”

John couldn't help but smirk. The boy would never look at him the way he looked at Alex or Eliza, John knew, but every single one of them had watched Philip grow up with ridiculous amounts of pride. He thought back to the wide-eyed child he’d met at the White House, to the surly boy holding an ice-pack to his bruised knuckles, and couldn't help but feel that he was going to miss Philip so much when he moved away.

The tour moved through the museum, and John gave up trying to listen to Washington explaining everything they were looking at. He knew it all anyway, and it was a rare opportunity to switch his brain off from the never-ending hurricane that was campaigning. He knew he should use this weekend to try and get his picture taken - being personally toured around a Presidential library by the president himself would do wonders for anyone’s senate campaign - but he couldn't bring himself to ask the question. This weekend wasn't about them. It was about Washington.

“So what’s up with Laf and Herc?” Eliza asked, stepping into stride with him.

“What?”

“They’ve been acting really weird all day. Trying not to look at each other, standing weirdly far apart…”

“And?” John prompted, wondering how the hell Eliza managed to spot all of this, and if maybe the CIA had spent years chasing after the wrong member of Washington’s staff.

“And I’m worried about them, idiot. What if something’s wrong? What if they’re breaking up, or-”

“Laf and Herc? Come on.” John smiled reassuringly. “If anything was happening, they would have said something.”

She didn't look convinced. “Whatever,” Eliza said eventually, eyeing up Herc who was in deep conversation with Theo. “I’m gonna go find out. Cover for me?”

“What are we, twelve?” John laughed, but she was already gone. And five minutes later, when he noticed Eliza tugging Herc out of the room by his elbow, he didn't say a word.

\--

Angelica considered herself a patient woman. You had to be, when you worked in the White House, and her new career in London demanded it as well. Even more so, being friends with these idiots for seven years had taught her more self-control than any job in the world ever could. Yes, Angelica Schuyler was, true to her name, an angel of calm and decorum.

But even angels have their breaking points, and today that breaking point started with an A, and ended with _ Alexander Hamilton _ .

Washington had lead them down a corridor with a grin painted across his face, opened the final door of the tour… and everyone had fallen silent for a minute. Even Angelica found herself lost for words as they walked into an exact reconstruction of the Oval Office, as it had been during the Washington administration. Everything was how it had been, from the color of the walls before Adams had painted them a ghastly shade of grey, to the little Eiffel Tower from Lafayette sitting on the desk.

“Wow.” Madison had said eventually, and she had to admit, _wow_ summed it up.

“This is incredible, Sir,” John breathed, and even Jefferson looked impressed.

Next to her, Theo nudged Aaron. “I kind of miss it looking like this.”

“The office isn't the only thing that looked better under Washington,” Alex commented, and Aaron just rolled his eyes.

“Hamilton, if you’ve got something to say-“

“Oh, I’ve got plenty to say. But I’m sure you’ll want a chance to water it down it first-“

“Don’t worry, I’ll just read the latest rant on uninformed dot com-“

“Okay, that’s enough!” Angelica yelled, stepping between them. “The two of you are adults, for God’s sake, do you want to start acting like it?”

A pause. And then - “Alexander started it.”

“That is so not fair! You started it when-“

“That’s it.” Angelica declared, grabbing Alex by the ear. Aaron looked smug for about half a second before she did the same to him, and if the twisting was a bit unnecessary, hey, she’d had a rough day.

“Ow!”

“Angelica, get off!”

“Only if you come with me right now.”

“Fine!”

She paused to shoot the Washington an apologetic smile. “This will only take a moment.” she assured, before releasing their ears and frog-marching the two idiots back down the corridor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Alex demanded.

“You’ll see,” she relied, stopping by a door. “After you,”

The two boys walked inside, and she waited only a moment before slamming the door shut behind them. The ensuing screams of outrage were priceless.

“What the hell? Is this a cleaning cupboard?”

“Angelica, this isn't funny. Open the door right now.”

“Nope. You guys are staying in there until you sort this mess between you out and agree to get on like actual human beings. You’re wrecking Washington’s weekend, and more to the point you’re wrecking mine.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Aaron’s muffled voice complained through the door and she shrugged, even though she knew they couldn't see her. “Maybe. But I’m the one with the keys, so…”

And without further ceremony, she pocketed the keys and walked away.

Her path back to the Oval Room (as she was terming it in her head, Oval Office would just be too confusing) lead her back through a series of little side rooms. She was halfway through one dedicated to the baseball caps Washington had collected over the years (seriously, who cared about that?) when she collided squarely with Lafayette and Madison.

“What are you guys doing?”

“We came to check that you hadn't murdered the others,” Laf confessed.

“Everyone decided we were the neutral ones,” Madison added, not looking entirely happy as he glanced around and realized Alex and Aaron weren't there. “You didn't actually murder them, did you?”

“No, I just locked them-“

And that was as far as Angelica got before all the lights in the building suddenly went out.

\--

 

“Well this is just fantastic. We’re locked in.” Jefferson muttered, giving the door an experimental kick. Unsurprisingly, the door didn't move at all, but they all winced at the audible crack of boot on wood. He cursed, hobbling away and Washington didn't even bother to glare at John for sniggering. They were all far too tired of Jefferson’s bullshit for that, John reasoned.

“I suppose these are the security measures you were talking about, sir? At least we know they work. Any idea how long we’re going to be stuck in here?”

Washington shook his head. “No idea. Could be hours, if they have to systematically go through and unlock all the doors.”

“Oh fuck,” Theo whispered.

John turned around to smile at her. “It’s not that bad. I mean sure, we’re trapped with Jefferoni over there-“ Jefferson paused examining his foot to glare at John, which he ignored “- but you’ve got the rest of us. We’ll have some fun, yeah?”

She shook her head, and it was only then that John noticed the panic spreading across her face. “No, it’s… my…” she trailed off helplessly, and John followed her eyes downwards.

“Oh fuck,” he agreed, taking a step back. “Is that?”

“Yeah.”

“What do we do?” he asked, before remembering he was supposed to know this. “Okay, lie down, and, um, pillows, we’re going to need pillows, and-“

“What are you on about?” Jefferson asked.

“Her water broke. She’s going into labor. Now.”

The senator paled. “What?”

“The baby’s coming, and until we get out of here…”

Washington looked almost as faint as Jefferson, but he nodded, assuming an air of authority John had forgotten he possessed. “John’s right. Right now, we're all there is. We’re just going to have to deal with this until help comes. We can do that, right Theodosia?”

Theo just grimaced, and John couldn't work out if it was due to pain or anger. “Most definitely not.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to WhoffleSouffle again for beta-ing this at light speed and doing an amazing job! Mistakes are still all me

“How long do you reckon we’ll be here?” Angelica asked, looking up at the door with distaste. “You know, this really isn't how I imagined this weekend going.”

“Church…” Madison muttered,

“I was hoping we’d be in and out of here in a couple of hours, go have a real party and a catch-up somewhere, get a real American burger- “

“ _Church_ ,”

“I’m just saying, it is impossible to find a proper burger anywhere in London, everything has to have peppers or some shit all over it and- “

“Dammit, Angelica!”

The fact that James Madison of all people was shouting was finally enough to make Angelica turn around. “ _What?_ ” she asked, before her heart dropped through her stomach.

Madison was looking up at her imploringly, but Laf… Laf was crouched on the floor, hands over his ears and eyes closed, muttering under his breath in rapid French.

“Oh shit.” Angelica whispered. She was at his side in an instant, crouched down to his eye level. She tried to take his hands and he pulled away as if burnt. Okay, so touching wasn't a good idea this time. That was fine, she knew how to deal with this.

“What’s happening to him?” Madison asked, but Angelica ignored him in favor of talking to her friend.

“Laf, can you hear my voice? Tap if you can hear me.”

There was a pause, before Laf gently tapped his index finger against the side of his head, and Angelica let out a breath of relief. That was good, at least, she could talk to him. “You’re safe, Laf, you’re in Virginia and I’m right here and I’m not going to leave you. Can you look at me?”

It was almost a full minute before Laf opened his eyes, and when his locked with hers they were full of fear and panic. She smiled reassuringly at him. “Do you want to count?”

They whispered the numbers together in the dim light. “One two three four five six seven eight nine.  _ Neuf huit sept six cinq quatre trois deux un.” _

“Great.” Angelica smiled. “This is real, yeah? You and me and James in this room and no-one else. You’re here with us, and you’re safe.”

“You and me and James. In this room” Laf repeated the words, then frowned. “Where the hell did everyone else go?”

_ Thank God _ . “They’re in the Oval room. Well, Alex and Aaron are in a storage cupboard, but you know.”

“Right. Oh, hey Madison.” Laf smiled sheepishly, noticing the senator for the first time. “Sorry about all that.”

“Was that a panic attack?”

Laf stiffened, and Madison’s face fell. He quickly amended his statement. “Sorry, that was really insensitive. You don’t have to answer that.”

“It is alright.” The Frenchman shrugged. “I am not ashamed. Yes, I suppose it was a panic attack of sorts. I get them from time to time, ever since my lovely trip to London. Something will trigger me - I suppose getting locked in a small room wasn't the best thing for me to do - and I lose track of myself for a moment.”

“I’m sorry, man. That must suck.”

“It can be most inconvenient, yes,” Laf smiled “But I have gotten a lot better over the years. I am much better at telling what is real now. And my friends are very good at helping me find my bearings again.”

He squeezed Angelica’s hand, the silent thank you passing between them. “We had a few false starts,” she explained, “But I’m Laf’s first phone call if he gets rocky and Herc isn't around. Something about being the only one in the same time zone?”

“Well if you want me to wake our friends up at four in the morning so they can listen to me rant- “

“I’m not complaining.”

“I get it.” Madison said quietly. “I used to have the same thing. Well not the same thing, I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you but…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “Point is, I used to get really bad anxiety attacks. Talking to lots of people, putting myself out there, that was a big no as far as I was concerned.”

“You’re a senator,” Angelica pointed out, a little taken aback. She’d never given too much thought to Madison besides casual disdain for everything he stood for, but now she was realizing that might have been a mistake on her part.

“I am, aren’t I? Guess you could say I’ve got some pretty good friends too.”

“I didn't know about that.” She admitted.

“I don’t exactly advertise. I mean, I’m not ashamed either, but there’s only so many times a campaign manager can tell you to keep certain things to yourself before you get the idea. Most people don’t see mental illness and politics as a good mix. Or mental illness generally.”

“Most people are idiots.” Laf declared, and Madison smiled shyly.

“Oh, I know. I’ve worked in DC for fifteen years, Gilbert. You don’t have to tell me that.”

\--

 

“Just a few more seconds, Theo. Breathe, okay?”

Theo slumped back against the sofa, exhausted. “How long was that one?”

John checked his watch. “About fifteen seconds. You’ve got a long way to go yet, don’t worry.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” she smiled shakily. “The idea that I’ve got to do this for hours, or that I might give birth here.”

“I know exactly which one’s worse.”

No one even looked up at Jefferson’s grumbling, making a silent collective decision just to ignore him. The man had spent the first twenty minutes that Theo was in labor looking like he was about to throw up, and had now resorted to keeping himself as far away from the whole thing as possible. Which, in this case, happened to mean he was sitting behind the fake Resolute Desk. Which everyone was also ignoring.

“Did you get Aaron?” she asked, turning to Washington.

He grimaced. “I’ll try again. But like I told you, there’s no signal here at all. No-ones’ phones are going to be working.”

John bit his lip. This was bad, he knew. They had no proper equipment, no way of contacting anyone, and somehow the most qualified person in the room was him. If by qualified, you meant that John was frantically trying to remember anything from the term he spent as a medical student before his father pulled him out and made him major in law instead. And funnily enough, how to deliver a baby wasn’t something that tended to be taught in the first semester.

But you didn’t need a medical degree to know that anything that could take Theo’s mind off it all would be a good thing.

she's“Yeah. Don’t laugh, but there’s this stupid tradition in my family that names get passed down. How do you think I got saddled with Theodosia?”

“So, she’s gonna have your name?”

“I guess.” Theo attempted a smile. “It’s not like we’d have to call her Theo day to day, God that would get confusing, but it would be on the birth certificate. Call it old fashioned, but I kind of like it.”

“Me too,” Washington agreed. “And you couldn’t have picked a better woman for her to be named after.”

Theo blushed, but whatever she would have said in reply was lost as her face screwed up in pain again. She squeezed John’s hand so tightly he was sure something had broken, and later Jefferson would claim that he had screamed higher than Theo.

No one believed him, of course. Even if it happened to be true.

\--

 

This had not been part of the plan. _No_ , Eliza thought ruefully as she struggled with a set of doors that remained very much locked, _this hadn’t been part of the plan at all._ All she’d wanted to do was make sure that Herc was okay (and perhaps extract the truth about what was really going on with him and Laf through pain of death if that was what it came to), and now they were locked in a freaking museum. _Fabulous_.

In fairness, her grand plan hadn’t been going all that well even before the alarms had been tripped. Despite her confident assurances to John that she would get the truth in no time, Herc had been as defensive as he had been all day, and now with an added case of tight-lip.

“Just leave it, would you, ‘Liza?” he had growled, throwing up his hands in frustration and nearly knocking a vase of its pedestal. Washington had been given it by the French President, if Eliza recalled correctly, but she was in no mood for a trip down memory lane right now. No, she was more concerned with the present that might see two of her closest friends lose the best thing they had ever had.

“There’s nothing wrong with me and Laf, seriously!” Herc insisted. “Everything’s great, I could puke rainbows I’m so happy, can we please talk about something else?”

That had pretty much been the extent of the conversation. Eliza had been about two minutes about wondering if it was worth cracking out some of her better blackmail information, when all the lights shut off with an audible click.

“What the…?” She crossed to the light switch on the far wall and flicked it off and on again. Nothing. The two of them shared a mystified look across the room.

“Well, that seems perfectly normal,” she deadpanned. “Come on, let’s go find out which one of our idiot friends is somehow to blame for this.”

Herc nodded his agreement, no doubt relieved to be let off the hook at least for now, and Eliza went to open the door. It remained stubbornly stuck, and she realized with a sinking feeling that maybe the clicking sound she’d heard hadn’t been the lights.

“I think we’re locked in,” she said, endeavoring to keep her voice even.

“What the hell happened?”

Eliza shrugged, expecting Herc to offer a ridiculously over the top plan of escape, or to crack a joke. She wasn’t prepared for the fear that clouded his face.

“Oh God,” he said, fumbling with his phone. “Laf.”

“There’s no signal,” she reminded him, holding up her own mobile as proof. There was no signal anywhere in the entire building, and had she been a spiteful person, Eliza might have suspected that Washington had somehow done it on purpose, as part of his continuing war on technology. Herc just ignored her, bringing the phone to his ear only to tear it away when it didn’t connect.

“He’s not answering. Why isn’t he answering?”

“The call’s probably not even going through. I’m sure he’s fine.” She gave the door another experimental tug.

“You don’t know that!”

“Herc,” she sighed, putting all her weight behind pulling the handles. “I promise you, nothing bad will have happened. And I’m just as keen as you to get back to the others. I mean, they’re my friends out there-”

“AND THAT"S MY _HUSBAND_ OUT THERE!”

Eliza let go of the handle in surprise and the momentum sent her flying backwards across the room. Fortunately, her elbow managed to collide with something soft, allowing to catch herself before she hit the floor. Unfortunately, that something soft was Herc’s face.

“Jesus Christ, Eliza!” he yelped, hand flying to his eye.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” she replied, sympathetic for a whole two seconds before she remembered the reason she had hit him in the first place. “Your husband, Herc? _Husband?_ As in, married?”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. For all he had spent the last four years being courted by every intelligence agency on the planet, he was an open book when it came to his emotions. Eliza watched him jump from panic to denial to embarrassment before finally settling on a rueful grin. “Yeah. Kind of.”

“Kind of? Fancy explaining how you kind of got married without thinking to mention it to us?”

“We were gonna tell you. Tomorrow night. It’s just…” he pulled something out of his pocket and turned in his fingers. “It was funny you know. We were living on the other side of the world, me finally doing what I’d always wanted, and we were married, and… it felt like we were finally leaving it all behind and starting again. All the stuff that had happened. London. Andre. Adrienne. That stuff all happened to someone else. And as soon as we told someone… I was scared the bubble would pop, somehow. Stupid I know.”

“It’s not stupid.” she said gently. “Herc, I-”

“If you’re going to say I’m sorry, don’t bother.” he smiled gruffly. “Because I am scared. Of everything, all the time. For Laf, for you guys, of where Adrienne is and what she’s doing.”

“No-one’s so much as seen her since she gave you the slip.”

“And that’s almost worse.” he smiled softly. “There was this night, about six months ago. I’d been in classes all day, Laf was at work, we were supposed to be having dinner together. Nothing fancy, ravioli I think. And I got up there, and the flat was empty. No note, no sign of a struggle, but no Laf either. It turned out he had just gotten caught up at work and had to switch his phone off, but suddenly it was like I’d blinked and I was standing on a street in London with no clue what I was supposed to be doing.”

Eliza stared at him for a moment, then took his hand with a smile. “We’re all scared, Herc, always. I’m scared about what’s going to happen to Phillip when I can’t look out for him any more. I’m scared that Alex and Aaron are going to screw up their friendship forever over something as stupid as politics. And right now,” she smirked slightly. “I’m scared there won’t be anything left of you we can bury after Angelica finds out you guys got married without telling us.”

He laughed at that. “We were planning on getting her drunk first.”

“Then maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought.”

For a while, no-one spoke. Eliza gave up her assault on the doors, Herc gave up trying to get his phone to work and the two of them ended up sitting on the floor, backs resting against the wall.

“Shit, you’re gonna have a black eye there,”

“That’s okay.”

“Herc, everything’s gonna be okay. You guys made it, and now you get to be married to Laf, you lucky idiot.”

He smiled, almost to himself. “I know.”

\--

 

“This is just my luck, you know.” Aaron fumed, cursing whatever Gods had decided this was even remotely funny. “Of all the people in the world I could possibly be locked in a cupboard with, it had to be Alexander bloody Hamilton.”

“You know,” Alexander mused, “If this was a crappy rom-com movie, this is the part where we’d dramatically confess our love for each other and end it with a hot make out session.”

Aaron paused, mid rant, to stare at him. “Do you have any idea about half the crap that comes out your mouth?”

“I’m just saying.”

Over the years working as the White House Chief of Staff, Aaron had been forced to adopt many different eye rolls for the sake of his own sanity. There was the practically non-existent eye-roll reserved for meetings and other formal occasions, when he didn’t trust himself to comment on the ridiculousness of something someone had just said. There was the telephone eye-roll, which served the same purpose as the non-existent one, except he was free to make it as obvious and pained as he wanted.

And then there was the Alexander Hamilton eye-roll. Yes, his colleague had managed to inspire a whole class of frustration all by himself, and it tended to be employed on occasions when the only alternative was punching a hole in the wall of his very expensive office. Aaron shot Alexander his own personalized roll of the eyes now, before turning back to what he had been doing. Namely, trying to open this door, and working out if it was possible to pace in a cupboard that was about four square meters.

“Okay, fine,” Alexander scowled. “So, I don’t spend hours schooling and rehearsing and weighing up what I’m going to say every time I so much as order a pizza. But at least that means people can trust what I say is true!”

Aaron slumped down to sit on an overturned bucket, and put his head in his hands. “Please tell me we’re not going to have this argument now.”

“I don’t see why not. It’s not like there’s anything better to do.

“ _Sweet Jesus…_ ”

“Face it, Burr, you sold out. You took that job with Adams, and you sold out everything we had spent eight years working on.

“And you’re a loose cannon who can’t cope with the fact that no one has to listen to you rant anymore.”

“Oh, but they are listening! Is that what’s really getting you? I’m not saying anything that’s not true, and people know it. Adams is no good, what the hell are you still doing there?”

“Being responsible!” Aaron hadn’t meant to shout, but it seemed like they were arguing now, whether he liked it or not. “Of course you wouldn't know anything about that, the only thing you’ve ever had to look out for in your life was your own back. I’ve got Theo, I’ve got a kid on the way, Hamilton! Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t have the luxury of sticking to my guns because I’m more concerned about putting a roof over my daughter’s head! Do you think I’m not terrified enough as it is that I’ll somehow cock it all up without having to worry about where my next paycheck is coming from?”

Alexander was staring at him, mouth slightly open, but Aaron wasn’t nearly done. “I know you can make it out there in the big wide world, and so can I. We’re both good at it. We got a man elected President, for Christ’s sakes. But I can’t do that anymore, go off chasing the next adventure. I’ve got to grow up, and eventually so will you!”

Alexander took a deep breath and came to sit down on a bucket next to Aaron. He was about to tell him to fuck off before he realized that, for once in his life, the man was silent. Alexander wasn't even looking at Aaron, just staring at his hands as if all his fury had simply evaporated. Had it been anyone else, Aaron might even have said he looked nervous. They sat like that for some time, Aaron waiting for something, anything, before Alexander eventually spoke.

“You know the kid I brought along today? Phillip?”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that. “He’s one of the orphans at Eliza’s place, right? Didn't you show him around the White House that one time?”

The ghost of a smile flicked across Alexander’s lips. “That’s right. He was absolutely obsessed with politics back then. Still is, now I think about it. He’s going to be sixteen next month.”

“Tell me you’re not going to teach him how to drive?” Aaron asked, because he couldn't think what else to say.

“No, you don’t get it. When he turns sixteen he’s going to be too old to stay at the orphanage. They’ll send him to one of those half way houses, a big state-run one. We didn't do enough for those places when we were in office, and the whole system’s a mess. I don’t want that for him.”

“He’s a smart kid, Alexander. Two, three years, and he can go off to college. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want him to be just okay. He deserves more than okay, they all do, but Philip… I really care about him, Aaron. I don’t know when that started, I sure as hell didn't notice it happening, but just okay isn't good enough for him.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I told Eliza that there was no way I could adopt him when he was nine years old. That I couldn't take care of myself, I had too much on my plate, I couldn't give him the stability he deserved… I still wonder if that was a mistake.”

“There was no way you could have done it working at the White House.”

“I know. But the thing is… I don’t work at the White House anymore.”

Aaron turned to look at him, but Alexander’s face was unreadable. “Have you spoken to John about this? Or Eliza?”

“Not a word. I’m still trying to work out how. And I keep telling myself it’s not practical, what with John running for office, and that they may not let two men adopt a teenager and I don’t want to raise Phillip’s hopes for nothing, and that maybe he doesn't want to come live with us for a couple of years… but do you know why I really haven't done anything about it? Because I’m terrified of being a good parent. Of growing up.”

“Alexander…”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad, Aaron. You and Theo can work it out as you go along and no matter what happens, even if you make a million mistakes, you’re still going to be her dad at the end of the day. If I fuck things up with Phillip, I could lose him forever.”

Aaron opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. And then, of all things, he laughed. “Look at us. We’re terrible at this.”

“The worst.” Alexander agreed. “Whoever thought giving us kids to take care of would be a good idea?”

“I still can’t believe they let us run a country.”

“How is America still functioning, exactly?”

“I’m going to go with blind luck and the rest of us acting as your impulse control.”

“That sounds about right.”

They were both laughing now, quietly losing it in a cleaning cupboard. Aaron wasn't exactly sure what was happening, but it was a hell of a lot better than screaming at each other. Alexander smiled weakly. “It really is nothing personal, you know. All the Adams stuff. I’m not trying to wreck your career. I just can’t sit by and keep my mouth shut when I see things I don’t believe in happening.”

“You wouldn't be Alexander Hamilton if you did. Between you and me, I don’t believe in a lot of things that are happening any more, but that’s off the record.”

Alexander looked horrified. “Off the record? What am I, a reporter?”

“A commentator. That’s near enough.”

“ _Ugh_. I hate you so much.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as Laf's panic attack and Madison's anxiety in this chapter go, I know that every experience is different. I was writing from my own experiences, and those of supporting my friends. If I got anything wrong please let me know.
> 
> And thanks again for being so patient with me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see. My bad. Hope this makes up for it?

“Where the hell is everyone?” Alex asked, stretching his arms over his head, so that his shoulders clicked with a satisfying pop. Aaron just shrugged in equal confusion. 

It had taken the best part of an hour after they had finished arguing before the door unlocked, and the time had mostly been spent in a silence, even if not strangled, had still held a significantly awkward air. Still, he supposed that was better than the two of them going for each other’s throats.

Now, though, Alex was beginning to feel like they’d stumbled into some weird Twilight Zone or third rate horror movie. The corridors of the library were empty, and there was no sign of their friends anywhere. “Is it just me?” he asked, “Or does something feel decidedly Not Good?”

“For once, it’s not you.”

“HAMILTON!”

The two of them turned around, relieved at least that they suddenly weren’t the only people left in the world. His relief was short lived, however, as the figure of the President of the United States strode towards them, face red and followed by his fleet of black-suited agents. 

Aaron at least, remembered his manners at the last minute, no doubt a result of long exposure to Adams’ moods. “Mr President. What can we do for you?”

Adams ignored him, in favour of continuing to glower at Alex. “Was this you, Hamilton? Some elaborate plan to drive me to distraction? Turn all the power off, lock everyone inside then set that boy of yours on me?”

Alex blinked. “What?”

“Sir, what are you talking about?”

“The power cut! If I find out this was your fault-”

But just what the indigent leader of the free world was going to do, they never found out. “There you guys are!” Angelica yelled, hurrying towards them. She spared a moment to nod at Adams before turning on Aaron and narrowing her eyes. 

“Burr, what in the almighty hell are you still doing here?”

“Getting locked in cupboards, clearly.” he replied pointedly.

Angelica didn’t even have the grace to look ashamed. Instead, she hit him on the shoulder. “Why aren’t you hauling all kinds of ass to the hospital?”

“Hospital? What-?”

“Theo, idiot. She’s gone into labour.”

Alex had never seen the colour of anyone’s face so fast. Aaron blinked, paling rapidly. “She… what..? Now?”

“Yes, now! Look, don’t worry, I’ll drive you.”

Aaron nodded, seeming to have regained the co-ordination for that simple action at least, and turned to Alex. “You coming, Hamilton?”

“Later.” He smiled thinly. “I want to make sure that someone is okay first. Isn’t that the grown up thing to do?”

Aaron almost laughed, before promptly returning to looking terrified. He allowed Angelica to tug on his arm and lead him away, leaving Alex to watch him go. He was still staring at the door that closed behind his friends when Adams sneered “I hope you’re proud, Hamilton. That son of yours is a menace.” And then he was gone.

“Son?” Alex asked to the empty corridor. And then he all but ran in the direction that he had last seen Philip.

\--

“I brought you some tea.”

Herc looked up to see Lafayette standing over him, and had to smirk. “You call that tea? This is a hospital, Laf. They don't know the meaning of the word.”

“Nope.” His husband beamed. “I went across the street. That right there is genuine, high-quality, $4.52 costing caffeine.”

“You’re serious?” Herc inhaled the rich scent of tea leaves greedily. “Jesus Christ I love you.” 

They had been sitting in the hospital waiting room for over four hours now, watching the time crawl by on the cheap clock in the far wall. Herc had long since lost all feeling in his legs, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He’d had far more agonising waits in hospitals, after all. The night his mother had died, and he’d clutched an eight year old Hugh and wondered how he could possibly make his baby brother understand, when he didn’t understand himself. The night after Alex’s blood pressure had bottomed out and John had screamed half the hospital down. The hours sitting at Laf’s bedside, watching his motionless face and praying for a miracle. So yeah, he had had far worse experiences in hospitals than watching his friends become parents, but it meant he hated these places on instinct by now. 

He just hoped Laf knew how much his small gesture meant.

“Any idea how long this is going to be?” he asked, lacing his fingers around the cup.

“Not a clue. John’s the one you should ask. You know he basically delivered the baby for the first two hours of labour?”

“Yeah. Is that why he’s passed out now?”

They glanced at where Laurens was curled up on two chairs, and even in his sleep Herc could read the lines of stress and exhaustion as clear as a map across his face. He supposed that weeks of congressional campaigning, coupled with suddenly having to be a doctor would do that to you. He'd done better than Jefferson, though. To hear everyone else tell it, the senator had flat out fainted.

“My God, what happened to your eye?” Laf asked in alarm.

“What?” Herc brought his hand to his face and winced at the sudden sting. What with all that had happened, and Theo being rushed to hospital he had completely forgotten about the black eye courtesy of a stray elbow. “Oh, nothing. I mean, Eliza happened, but it was an accident.”

“I was just chatting with Eliza, as a matter of fact.” Laf said, slipping into the seat next to him. “Anything you want to share?”

“Oh God.” Herc smiled ruefully. “I’m guessing she told you she knows about us? I’m so sorry, I know you wanted to keep it a secret, I wasn’t thinking, I just-”

“Panicked? My love, you really are an idiot. You think I care you told her?”

Herc paused. “Yes?”

“No.” Laf took his hand. “I care that you are not nearly as alright as you pretend to be.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” He replied automatically.

“After London, you spent so long making sure I was okay. Helping me get better, learning how to cope when I couldn’t keep the past in the past. Did you not stop for one second to think that maybe you needed help as well?”

Herc looked down at their fingers intertwined in his lap. “It’s not the same. What you went through, it’s not even on the same scale. I can’t ask you to worry about me at the same time.”

“You didn’t need to ask me. I made that decision when I gave you this.” Laf placed something cold in his palm, and it took a moment to realise it was his wedding ring, glinting dully in the flat light of the waiting room. “We take care of each other. And we are not afraid to ask for help when we need it. That’s what this means. Yes? So how about you put this on and stop being such a fool, and I stop pretending there’s any reason I should hide what you are to me. Deal?”

For a minute, Herc couldn’t speak, a lump inexplicably forming in his throat. Instead he simply nodded and allowed Lafayette to slip the band over his fourth finger once more. “Deal.”

And when Angelica walked past ten minutes later with her phone glued to her ear, she glanced down at the matching rings and froze for a minute. Herc tensed, expecting some loss of limb or at the very least shouting. Instead she only smirked, shot him a wink and said into her phone “Oh and Alex? You owe me twenty bucks.”

\--

Silence had fallen in the small hospital room, and for a moment all was calm. Aaron slid his chair even closer to the bed, and wrapped his hands around his wife’s fingers. “I am so proud of you, sweetheart.”

Theo’s eyes were closed, but she managed a little huff of laughter.  “Even though I broke your  hand?”

“Especially because you broke my hand. Although I think you broke John’s as well.”

“He deserved it. Telling me to be calm like that.”

This time it was Aaron’s turn to laugh, although it came out as more of a hysterical giggle. That was unsurprising, he supposed, after the hours spent here, he had the right to be a little exhausted. 

As if reading his thoughts, Theo shifted in the bed. “Think I’m going to sleep for a little bit,” she mumbled, and he brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “Will you stay?”

“Always.”

Aaron didn’t know how long he sat there, fingers idly brushing up and down the back of Theo’s hand as the steady beeps of various machines told him everything was still, somehow, okay. He thought he had been ready for this. They had read all the books, attended all the classes, painted the nursery blue because, in Theo’s words “Fuck stereotypes.” But he was beginning to realise that nothing could have come close to preparing him. And when the midwife poked her head around the door and asked if he wanted to take his daughter, he accepted the tiny bundle into his arms wordlessly.

Both his Theodosias were sleeping, and as he looked down at his daughter, Aaron wondered if he would ever get used to the fact that, somehow, he had two of them.

“Hey there, Theodosia,” he whispered. “What am supposed to even begin to say to you? You’ve got my eyes, you know. I’ll probably tell you that every day of your life and drive you insane, but you've got your mother’s name so it only seems fair.”

She shifted in her sleep, and for a moment he froze, terrified that he’d somehow woken her and she would start crying again. For such a pair of tiny lungs, he was amazed that someone could be so loud. He supposed she took after her mother in that regard, screaming from the moment she came into the world. He only knew that he would give anything for Theo to never have to cry again.

“I’ll be around for you,” he promised to the two girls who couldn’t hear him. “Both of you. Family, domestic life, that’s never been me but that’s all going to change. I’m gonna be the dad that I never had, and you?” He smiled softly, safe in the knowledge that no-one would ever know. “You’ve just got to keep blowing me away.”

\--

The doors of the elevator shut behind him, and Alex let his head fall back against the mirrored wall, letting out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes. He wasn’t meant for this, these  huge decisions that he didn’t have a clue how to understand, let alone solve. He was a man of spur of the moment decisions and razor-sharp responses, but he had a horrible feeling that somehow his usual instincts weren’t going to help him out one bit.

Not with something this important.

And he _still_ hadn’t talked to John. 

The floors flashed past in a cheerful white light, and he shook his head forcefully. He should be thinking about his friends, he knew, about the ridiculous fact that Aaron and Theo were about to (had already?) become parents, but for some reason the image of Philip grinning up at him in defiance wouldn’t shift.

It had taken all of Alex’s self-control (and a little extra he was sure he must have borrowed from Eliza) not to sprint in the direction Adams had pointed him. What had the boy done this time? And Alex had left him all alone, too busy glaring daggers into Aaron’s back over some stupid fight to be concerned about Philip. If had something had happened (and something had, judging by Adams’ spluttering outrage) it would be his fault. 

Alex didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Philip with a black eye, or being carted away by security, or standing on top of a table and shouting. So when he’d burst through the doors of the cafeteria to see the boy calmly sitting in a corner and flicking through the pages of an old notebook, it had taken him a moment for him to process that everything seemed to be okay.

“What did you do?” he’d asked.

Philip had looked up, his face splitting into a delighted grin. “Alex hey! I’ve had such a good time. We all got locked in here and I got to talk to loads of people and look, I’ve got all these notes and I can put this all in my blog and I think the President wanted to punch me when I asked about his taxation plans and-”

“Hold up. You just… talked to people?”

“Yeah. Why?”

_ Apart from the fact the President of the United States thinks you’re a menace? And that you’re my son? And I don’t know how I feel about that? _ “I was thinking… I was just worried about you.”

Philip’s smile hadn’t changed, although something behind his eyes had shifted sadly when he spoke. “You don’t worry about me. I can look after myself.”

The lift announced it’s arrival with a soft dinging sound, and Alex snapped himself back to the present.  _ Focus, Hamilton _ , he chided himself forcefully. Aaron’s just had a kid, and you need to go in there and apologise for being such an idiot. One fuck up at a time.

He held a balloon in his hand, and it bobbed along the corridor behind him cheerfully proclaiming _It’s a girl!_ in fluorescent pink writing as Alex scanned the numbers on the door. Laf had pressed the helium monstrosity into his hands with glee before sending him upstairs to meet Theodosia Junior, and he had to remind himself not to grin at the prospect of Aaron’s horror as he handed it over. At least Theo would find it funny, he was sure. 

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, Alex walked past the door marked Room 447 twice before he noticed it. Smiling, he slid the door open softly in case Theo was sleeping, and froze in the doorway.

In the ten years or so that he had known him, Alex didn’t think he’d ever heard Aaron’s voice so soft. The man had his back to the door, sitting facing his wife who was indeed a sleep, so he hadn’t noticed Alex arrive. In fact, Alex had a suspicion that he wouldn’t have noticed him anyway, as all Aaron’s focus was on the tiny bundle nestling in his arms. 

“And you?” he whispered. “You’ve just got to keep blowing me away.”

This was something he wasn’t meant to intrude on, Alex was sure. Wordlessly he slipped out into the corridor and let the door shut behind him. He stood for a moment, staring at the wood that concealed Aaron’s whole world, and something twisted in his gut. And then it was all Alex could do not to smack his head against the nearest wall because he knew this feeling, and couldn't believe it had taken him so long to recognise what it was. This was the day a skinny student had taken a weekend trip from his college in New York up to DC in the middle of winter. He had stood, wrapped in a far-too-thin coat and scarf between the crowds of photo-taking tourists and stared at a building through black iron bars. Alex had been nineteen, and as he craned his neck for a better look at the White House, he had known with an electric certainty that he had never wanted anything more. If love at first sight, not for a person but for a future  was possible, then Alex had experienced it twice now.

He took a deep breath. And then went in search of the man he should have had this conversation with a long time ago.

\--

Baltimore airport was a rush of chaos and confusion, groups of tourists barreling through the terminal while crackling voices announced flights over the loudspeakers. Angelica Church looked around with somewhat of a subdued smile. Sure, London had its own kind of chaotic energy but she was going to miss being state side. Suddenly the tiny island across the sea felt a long way from all she was leaving behind again.

“You got everything?” Aaron asked, coming to stand next to her as she scanned the information boards for her flight to Heathrow. He had insisted on driving her to the airport, despite her protests that he should be at home with the Theodosias. 

“Theo can manage without me for an hour,” he’d smiled. “She’d probably appreciate it, to be honest. And if you think she doesn’t have twenty people ready to come running the moment either of them coughs…”

Angelica had laughed at that, and allowed him to open the car door for. It was true, she supposed. Baby Theo didn’t have two parents, she had a whole boatload of them who couldn’t do enough to help out. She’d been just as bad herself this last week, setting up baby monitors and changing nappies with swift proficiency that she took a secret pride in, especially when she proved to be infinitely better at it than all the boys combined, but Angelica reasoned she had to make up the time when she could. God only knew how big Theo would be when she next saw her. 

“So you’re sure we can’t kidnap you or something to make you stay?” Aaron asked. “I hear the Secret Service are very good at that sort of thing.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m using up a whole year’s worth of leave from work already.”

“What is it exactly you do over there?”

“Oh, you know,” she smiled waving her hand airily. “Bit of this, bit of that. Write some reports, talk to people, save the world occasionally.”

“So just like old times then?”

“Not quite. You guys aren’t there for one thing.”

HIs smile faltered slightly, before Aaron surprised her with a hug. “I suppose we’re just going to have to come up with some other way to get you to come back then. You’ll have to visit your Goddaughter occasionally.”

“My what?”

“Theo agrees. There’s no one better. Someone has to have some common sense for her to copy, and it sure as hell won’t be any of those idiots back at home.”

Angelica  swallowed, a lump thick in her throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, then.”

“But… I live on a different continent! I…” She frowned, then punched him on the arm. “This is all part of your scheming to get me to come move back to the US, isn’t it?”

Aaron’s face was a picture of innocence. “Would I do that?”

She didn't even justify that with an answer. “Oh God, I’m going to have to find something British to send her. And work out what to call her. Having two Theos around is going to be too confusing. Dosia? Teddy? Theo Junior? TJ?”

“Do not call my daughter TJ.”

“Looks like TJ it is.”

Aaron glared at her. “Get out of here. You know what, on second thoughts just stay over there. I don’t need that kind of talk in my life.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna miss you too, Burr.”


	6. Chapter 6

It had been the kind of day when the sun had seemed reluctant to leave, only dipping below the horizon and last tendrils fading when it realised there was no choice and the night could no longer be denied.  Philip smiled softly as he watched the dark highway slip past, and tried not to think about what was waiting for him back at home. Not that the orphanage would be home much longer. A couple more months and he ’ d be unceremoniously kicked out into some grey halfway house on the other side of the state, away from all his friends. He knew he ’ d had it lucky, considering where he came from. For a kid like him, Eliza ’ s orphanage was pretty much the best place he could have ever ended up, and not just because she happened to be friends with the President. He ’ d been happy there, really, truly happy,  and leaving was going to hurt more than he was willing to admit.

_ Two years, _ he told himself firmly.  _ I can make it through two more years, and then they can _ _ ’ _ _ t tell me what to do with my life any more. _ He was going to make it to college, somehow, even if he had to work three jobs and win every scholarship available to get there. He was going to be something. He just had to make it.

It was a two hour drive north from Mount Vernon, and Philip found himself drifting in and out of sleep. Eliza had put on some terrible pop music, but it was easy just to let the sound wash over him as he leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, watching street lights flash past. It was comfortable, peaceful even, a rare moment of contentedness  in the whirlwind that was his life.

He hadn't meant to really fall asleep, just rest his eyes for a moment, so it was something of a surprise when Eliza was suddenly shaking him awake.

“ Phillip, honey, we ’ re here. ”

He blinked the dust from his eyes and stretched, mind already wondering whether or not it would be too late to sneak some food from the kitchen before going to bed.  “ Thanks for the lift, Eliza, ”  he yawned, reaching for him rucksack in the footwell.  “ Are you coming in? ”

“ No. ”  she smiled softly.  “ I don ’ t think you need me to. ”

There was something off in her voice, and he frowned momentarily at her weird answer before shrugging it off and turning to open the car door. And freezing.

In his half asleep state, it had taken him this long to realise that they weren ’ t at the orphanage. Eliza had parked up on a city street, and he stared up at the half-familiar buildings in confusion before turning back to her.

“ What the hell? Where are we? ”

She turned the engine off.  “ You ’ re a smart kid, Phillip. Where do you think we are? ”

He looked out the window, trying to work out why the road looked familiar. Where were … ?  _ Oh _ .

“ Why are we at Alex and John ’ s flat? ”

“ I ’ ve loved every moment of having you at the orphanage, you know. Even when you were nine years old and reciting your terrible poetry to anyone who would listen, and setting the curtains on fire- “

“ That was one time! ”

She carried on as if he hadn't spoken.  “ And if I had it my, you could stay with us forever. But you know you can ’ t, right? ”

“ Yeah. ”  He still didn't understand what she was getting at, why they were at Alex ’ s place, unless …  but no, that couldn't be it.

“ It ’ s not up to me what happens to you any more. It ’ s up to you. ”

Philip had been expecting this talk sooner or later. The  _ make good choices _ talk,  _ we can _ _ ’ _ _ t look out for you any more, try not to screw up _ . Maybe that was why they were here. Alex and John and Eliza wanted to do it together to make sure he understood he was going to have to watch his own back from now on.

“ Do you understand what I ’ m saying? ”  Eliza asked.

“ I think so. ”

“ Then how about we go inside? ”

He ’ d been here a couple of times before, once for a weekend to visit and once when he ’ d scored some work experience with a publishing company in the city and needed a place to stay. The flat looked exactly the same as he remembered it, an odd equilibrium between organised and total chaos, but he couldn't deny it had an odd homely feel to it. Alex and John were sitting in the kitchen waiting for them, and was it Phillip ’ s imagination or did they look almost nervous as they stood up?

“ Long time no see, ”  Phillip deadpanned for no other reason than to break the sudden awkward silence. It seemed to do the trick; Alex laughed and John busied himself making tea in the kitchen.

Alex turned to Eliza.  “ What have you two said about … ? ”

“Nothing.  I thought I ’ d leave that up to you and John. ”

“ Right. ”  He looked at his boyfriend, who shot him a smile Phillip could only think to describe as reassuring. He was seriously confused.

“ Does anyone want to tell me what the hell ’ s going on? ”  he interjected hotly.  “ I can ’ t help thinking you guys aren't telling me something. ”

“ Right, okay. ”  Alex swallowed.  “ You ’ re not a little kid anymore, so we won ’ t insult you by acting like we know what ’ s best for you. Whatever happens, it ’ s completely up to you and we just want to make you happy. So no pressure, it ’ s your decision, and if you decide that you don ’ t want a pair of writers hanging around that’s absolutely fine, but- “

“ Alex. ”  Phillip interrupted.  “ You ’ re not making any sense. ”

John laughed warmly.  “ He ’ s got you there. Tell you what, come here a minute. ” 

He gestured Phillip to stand, and he followed him, intrigued across the hall to the office door. Or at least to the door that had been the office last time Phillip was here. The desk was gone, cluttered boxes nowhere in sight and most of the jumbled books and papers gone from the shelves. In their place stood a bed, a nightstand, and a small chest of drawers.

“ What the hell … ? ”  he asked, walking into the room slowly.

“ If you want it, it ’ s yours. ”

“ For the weekends? ”  Philip was still kind of confused, but he ’ d heard about this. Schemes and plans to relieve the taxpayer some of the burden of care kids by getting them into weekend placements.

“ For ever. ”

He turned. Alex and Eliza were standing in the doorway, smiling. Alex walked in, then sat down on the bed and patted the mattress next to him. Head spinning, Phillip sat.

“ I know I ’ m not your dad. And I ’ ll never pretend to be, I can promise you that. And if you decide you don ’ t want to come and live with us, that is absolutely okay. I still don ’ t know how we ’ ll manage it, with John running for re-election and your school and the rest of it. But we were thinking maybe between the three of us we could figure it out? ”

Phillip swallowed. He looked from Alex ’ s hopeful face, to John and Eliza, to this room that they were offering. It was small and cramped and bare, but it could be his. He wouldn't have to go to the half-way house, he wouldn't have to watch his own back. He ’ d actually have people in his life who gave a crap what happened to him. There had to be some catch, right?

Or maybe not. Alex smiled at him, and Phillip realised there had never been a catch when it came to him.

“ I think …”  He said slowly.  “ I think I ’ d like that. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr.  
> And thanks if you've taken the trouble to read all my Hamilton works, this is most likely the last I'll write in this particular AU and this carnation of the characters.   
> Love you all x


	7. Chapter 7

It had been the kind of day when the sun had seemed reluctant to leave, only dipping below the horizon and last tendrils fading when it realised there was no choice and the night could no longer be denied.

Philip smiled softly as he watched the dark highway slip past, and tried not to think about what was waiting for him back at home. Not that the orphanage would be home much longer. A couple more months and he ’ d be unceremoniously kicked out into some grey halfway house on the other side of the state, away from all his friends. He knew he ’ d had it lucky, considering where he came from. For a kid like him, Eliza ’ s orphanage was pretty much the best place he could have ever ended up, and not just because she happened to be friends with the President. He ’ d been happy there, really, truly happy,  and leaving was going to hurt more than he was willing to admit.

_ Two years, _ he told himself firmly.  _ I can make it through two more years, and then they can _ _ ’ _ _ t tell me what to do with my life any more. _ He was going to make it to college, somehow, even if he had to work three jobs and win every scholarship available to get there. He was going to be something. He just had to make it.

It was a two hour drive north from Mount Vernon, and Philip found himself drifting in and out of sleep. Eliza had put on some terrible pop music, but it was easy just to let the sound wash over him as he leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, watching street lights flash past. It was comfortable, peaceful even, a rare moment of contentedness  in the whirlwind that was his life.

He hadn't meant to really fall asleep, just rest his eyes for a moment, so it was something of a surprise when Eliza was suddenly shaking him awake.

“ Phillip, honey, we ’ re here. ”

He blinked the dust from his eyes and stretched, mind already wondering whether or not it would be too late to sneak some food from the kitchen before going to bed.  “ Thanks for the lift, Eliza, ”  he yawned, reaching for him rucksack in the footwell.  “ Are you coming in? ”

“ No. ”  she smiled softly.  “ I don ’ t think you need me to. ”

There was something off in her voice, and he frowned momentarily at her weird answer before shrugging it off and turning to open the car door. And freezing.

In his half asleep state, it had taken him this long to realise that they weren ’ t at the orphanage. Eliza had parked up on a city street, and he stared up at the half-familiar buildings in confusion before turning back to her.

“ What the hell? Where are we? ”

She turned the engine off.  “ You ’ re a smart kid, Phillip. Where do you think we are? ”

He looked out the window, trying to work out why the road looked familiar. Where were … ?  _ Oh _ .

“ Why are we at Alex and John ’ s flat? ”

“ I ’ ve loved every moment of having you at the orphanage, you know. Even when you were nine years old and reciting your terrible poetry to anyone who would listen, and setting the curtains on fire- “

“ That was one time! ”

She carried on as if he hadn't spoken.  “ And if I had it my, you could stay with us forever. But you know you can ’ t, right? ”

“ Yeah. ”  He still didn't understand what she was getting at, why they were at Alex ’ s place, unless …  but no, that couldn't be it.

“ It ’ s not up to me what happens to you any more. It ’ s up to you. ”

Philip had been expecting this talk sooner or later. The  _ make good choices _ talk,  _ we can _ _ ’ _ _ t look out for you any more, try not to screw up _ . Maybe that was why they were here. Alex and John and Eliza wanted to do it together to make sure he understood he was going to have to watch his own back from now on.

“ Do you understand what I ’ m saying? ”  Eliza asked.

“ I think so. ”

“ Then how about we go inside? ”

He ’ d been here a couple of times before, once for a weekend to visit and once when he ’ d scored some work experience with a publishing company in the city and needed a place to stay. The flat looked exactly the same as he remembered it, an odd equilibrium between organised and total chaos, but he couldn't deny it had an odd homely feel to it. Alex and John were sitting in the kitchen waiting for them, and was it Phillip ’ s imagination or did they look almost nervous as they stood up?

“ Long time no see, ”  Phillip deadpanned for no other reason than to break the sudden awkward silence. It seemed to do the trick; Alex laughed and John busied himself making tea in the kitchen.

Alex turned to Eliza.  “ What have you two said about … ? ”

“Nothing.  I thought I ’ d leave that up to you and John. ”

“ Right. ”  He looked at his boyfriend, who shot him a smile Phillip could only think to describe as reassuring. He was seriously confused.

“ Does anyone want to tell me what the hell ’ s going on? ”  he interjected hotly.  “ I can ’ t help thinking you guys aren't telling me something. ”

“ Right, okay. ”  Alex swallowed.  “ You ’ re not a little kid anymore, so we won ’ t insult you by acting like we know what ’ s best for you. Whatever happens, it ’ s completely up to you and we just want to make you happy. So no pressure, it ’ s your decision, and if you decide that you don ’ t want a pair of writers hanging around that’s absolutely fine, but- “

“ Alex. ”  Phillip interrupted.  “ You ’ re not making any sense. ”

John laughed warmly.  “ He ’ s got you there. Tell you what, come here a minute. ” 

He gestured Phillip to stand, and he followed him, intrigued across the hall to the office door. Or at least to the door that had been the office last time Phillip was here. The desk was gone, cluttered boxes nowhere in sight and most of the jumbled books and papers gone from the shelves. In their place stood a bed, a nightstand, and a small chest of drawers.

“ What the hell … ? ”  he asked, walking into the room slowly.

“ If you want it, it ’ s yours. ”

“ For the weekends? ”  Philip was still kind of confused, but he ’ d heard about this. Schemes and plans to relieve the taxpayer some of the burden of care kids by getting them into weekend placements.

“ For ever. ”

He turned. Alex and Eliza were standing in the doorway, smiling. Alex walked in, then sat down on the bed and patted the mattress next to him. Head spinning, Phillip sat.

“ I know I ’ m not your dad. And I ’ ll never pretend to be, I can promise you that. And if you decide you don ’ t want to come and live with us, that is absolutely okay. I still don ’ t know how we ’ ll manage it, with John running for re-election and your school and the rest of it. But we were thinking maybe between the three of us we could figure it out? ”

Phillip swallowed. He looked from Alex ’ s hopeful face, to John and Eliza, to this room that they were offering. It was small and cramped and bare, but it could be his. He wouldn't have to go to the half-way house, he wouldn't have to watch his own back. He ’ d actually have people in his life who gave a crap what happened to him. There had to be some catch, right?

Or maybe not. Alex smiled at him, and Phillip realised there had never been a catch when it came to him.

“ I think …”  He said slowly.  “ I think I ’ d like that. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading. This is probably my last work in this particular AU (although hopefully not my last Hamilton piece) so it's really appreciated.   
> Come find me on tumblr  
> x


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